


Balance

by AgentInfinity



Series: Sexcapades: A Love Story [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, But not used, Checking in, D/s, Dirty Talk, F/M, Punishment, Restraints, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Whipping, all good things, but really, don't forget your doms, for both the dom and the sub, funishment, mentions of safe words, pain play, they need care too, with a belt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29680644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentInfinity/pseuds/AgentInfinity
Summary: "I've beenthinking," he repeats, eyeing me for indications that I'm going to cut him off again.  I wave my hand at him in a 'go on' motion.  "About last week when you walked naked into my office in the middle of one of my lectures, and blew me while I was learning about orthographic projection."  I smirk.  Yeah, I had done that. Crawled naked right under his desk and sucked him off while he controlled the vibrator I was wearing at the time."Well. I think about that too.""More specifically, I've been thinking about how you never received any punishment for that."
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Sexcapades: A Love Story [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1264571
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Balance

**Author's Note:**

> 🤷🏻

I return with coffee from our favorite shop, expecting to find my husband still asleep, but instead, he's shirtless and in jeans on the couch. I had taken our son to school while my husband slept in, enjoying a snow day in the county where he teaches. Our son hadn't been so lucky. 

"Hey, you're up. I brought you a coffee." I hand it to him, and after a sip, he hums and smiles.

"Thanks, baby." I kiss him on the forehead and plop down next to him, pulling out my phone to do some Twitter scrolling. But, before I can unlock my phone, he plucks it out of my hand and sets it on the coffee table. I tilt my head at him, eyebrows raised in question.

"Let's have a conversation. I've been thinking--,"

"Clearly," I interrupt, rolling my eyes.

"I've been _thinking_ ," he repeats, eyeing me for indications that I'm going to cut him off again. I wave my hand at him in a 'go on' motion. "About last week when you walked naked into my office in the middle of one of my lectures, and blew me while I was learning about orthographic projection." I smirk. Yeah, I had done that. Crawled naked right under his desk and sucked him off while he controlled the vibrator I was wearing at the time. 

"Well. I think about that too."

"More specifically, I've been thinking about how you never received any punishment for that."

"I feel like there was some punishment involved," I start.

"You came twice and then I cuddled you for half an hour."

"That makes it sound not like punishment." He ignores me. “And you already know about orthographic projection.” He continues as if I hadn’t spoken.

"So, if I wanted to pull a little penitence out of you this morning, restore some balance, what would you say to that?" I think about it. He's wearing his belt with his jeans. THE belt. The one with which I'm most _familiar_. It's been awhile since we did any impact play, and I do enjoy it. I just wasn't expecting it today.

"Full disclosure, we're talking about whipping right?"

"Spanking first, then my belt if you feel like it," he corrects nonchalantly. I hum quietly as I think over how I’m feeling. I do like his spankings, and I trust him to get me into the right headspace for the rest.

"Okay. I'm green.” He smiles and kisses my forehead.

"Did you think you were going to get away with it?" he questions conversationally, leaning back and sipping his coffee. 

"I mean. Get away with giving you a fantastic blowjob? Yeah, I suppose." We grin at each other. 

"But you didn't do it for me, did you? You did it because you were horny." He sits his coffee down and wraps his hand around my jaw, turning my head to look at him. "You did it because you wanted to get off. You wanted control while I was on camera and unable to react to you in the way I wanted." His voice has dropped lower, both in tone and volume. I clench my thighs together as the pulsing in my core makes itself known. "Well? Anything to say?"

"Not really." My voice has gone breathy and soft, but I can't quite stop the snark. He grins, dangerous and shark-like. 

"Maybe I can fix that." He stands and gets a handful of my hair, chuckling at the gasp it pulls from me. "Come on, baby. Let's practice some contrition together." I'm led toward the bedroom, hair still firmly in his grasp as he marches me through the house. 

“Did you google synonyms for penitence?” I mock, even as my scalp protests and I struggle to keep up with his pace.

“No, but I bet one of them is ‘regret.’” He tugs a little harder as we pass through the doorway.

The bed is still sleep ruffled, but it doesn’t seem to matter to him as bends me over the foot of it, my face shoved into the quilt. I breathe in as deeply as I can manage, letting the familiar smell of _us_ wash through me. It helps me center myself. He lets my hair go, and I turn my head to the side, peering back at him. He slips my leggings down my hips and squeezes my asscheeks, not too harshly, but definitely nowhere near gentle. I get a couple light smacks, and they sting a bit, but only just. He pulls my shirt up and unsnaps my bra, and I pull them both off while he pulls my leggings off my legs completely. All I have left are my socks, which miraculously stayed on as he removed my leggings, and that somehow makes me feel more exposed than if I was completely naked.

“What do you say if you wanna stop?” he asks, pulling back completely and leaning closer to my face.

“Red.”

“And right now?”

“Green.” 

“Don’t fidget and don’t reach back to block me or I’ll cuff your hands so you can’t.” The smacks continue at once, growing in intensity until I’m clenching my leg muscles to keep my feet firmly on the floor. After one especially punishing one, I reach my hand back before I can stop it. 

“Ah, ah, baby, one more time, and I’ll cuff your hands,” he teases, singsong and insufferable. I want to say something snide, but my brain isn’t able to form anything smart enough, so I don’t. I do grunt into the sheets, and he just laughs as he continues. I do enjoy a fair bit of pain with my pleasure, and I definitely have cravings for this at times, wanting it so bad that I antagonize him until I get it (instead of just asking for it like an adult). But there’s also a dissonance between enjoying the pain and enjoying the act. Most of the time, I enjoy both, but sometimes, it takes time to get my brain there. And other times, it just doesn’t work for me. The latter doesn’t apply today, but it’s definitely taking time. He notices, though, and while the hits don’t lessen in intensity, they do slow a bit.

I _am_ wet, though. Uncomfortably so. His attitude has a lot to do with that.

My ass is on fire by the time he stops, and he spends a little time rubbing and squeezing the angry flesh. I can tell he’s enjoying the hisses and noises that I’m making. He slides a finger into me from behind, and I sigh, relishing the pleasure and awash in the endorphins from the spanking. I feel more pliant, and he kisses my back as I relax into the bed, muscles going lax and eyes falling shut. He isn’t working his finger like the does when he’s trying to bring me to orgasm, but it still feels fucking good.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers into my ear.

“Mmmm,” I say, words failing me once again. He pulls his finger from me, and I hear him suck it into his mouth and moan quietly.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” I manage, cracking an eye open to look at him.

“So you _can_ speak,” he murmurs at me, grinning slightly. “Wanna step it up or stop here?” I take a moment to catalog how I’m feeling as he waits patiently, stroking his fingertips along my back. I’m nearly to the point where I could say yes, so I tell him.

“More, I think, but I need a minute. Can you keep kissing my back?” He smiles and grips my hair once more, turning my head so he can kiss me. I can taste myself on his tongue, and it has me moaning into his mouth.

“Sure, baby. Crawl up on the bed all the way and stay on your belly,” he instructs, stroking his fingers through my hair and soothing my scalp from the earlier grip he had on my hair. I do as he says, albeit slowly and not without a false start or two. “Arms out.” I do, and he straps one of my wrists into the soft cuffs that live between our mattress and boxsprings. He raises his eyebrows at me after the first one, and I nod and smile, dopey-eyed. This will help me get there, and he understands that.

Also, I think he just really wanted to whip me today. Which, I get. It’s fun, and he likes to be mean. And I like that he’s mean.

He does the other and proceeds to massage and kiss down my back as requested. He works at knots with adept hands and kisses and bites the freshly worked skin as he goes. By the time he makes it to the lowest point of my back, I am jelly, my sore ass nearly forgotten.

But, then he begins to knead the skin there too, and it is quickly un-forgotten. I hiss and slide sideways a bit instinctually. He clicks his tongue and swats me lightly. 

“Don’t pull away from me, or it’ll get worse for you. So far, I’ve gotten you wet and given you a massage. How repentant do you think you are now?”

“Very,” I say. He scoffs.

“Eh, you forgot the ‘not’ in ‘not very,’ I think.” I hear him undo his belt and slide it through the loops. My skin instantly breaks out in goosebumps, which does not go unnoticed. “Oh, look at that. I think you’re in the right mindset for some correction, hmm?” I don’t say anything, which earns me another smack, and makes me squirm away again. He waits a long few seconds, giving me time to say if I want to stop. I don’t.

“Didn’t answer me _and_ tried to get away?” He brings the belt down across the middle of my ass, and I cry out, once again twisting my hips away. He rights me, so my hips once again lay flat on the bed, and brings the belt down again. I manage to move only a little.

“Hm, better.” Again, this time harder.

“AH!” I yell, twisting once again.

“See, I complimented you, you didn’t thank me, and then you moved again. Seems like you just. Can’t. Help yourself,” he growls out as he gets me with a strike to match each word. He leans down over me, pressing into my sore ass with his jean-clad hips, and bites into the skin near my shoulder blade. “I think this was long overdue, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Not yet, baby, but I'll get you there, I promise,” he whispers back. The world narrows to two things: the unyielding impact of his belt and his voice as he reprimands or praises me. I can’t help flinching, but I do manage to stop twisting away. For that, he says very Nice Things even as he continues bringing his belt down again and again.

My brain registers the belt clinking behind me, but I don’t move. I breathe, and my eyes leak tears, and I lift my head when he asks. The end of the belt has been fed through its buckle and the resulting loop is slid over my head. He frees my hands and flips me over, pulling a strangled noise from my throat when the angry skin of my ass is pressed into the bed. He flips the long end of the belt around so it rests between my breasts and pulls gently. It tightens enough for me to feel it, but not so much that it impedes breathing or blood flow. He runs his hands over my body, and my hazy brain, awash in pleasant chemicals, would purr if it were able. His fingertips press lightly into the muscles of my arms, and I sigh, watching him lazily as he moves on to my breasts, massaging them and thumbing at my nipples. I gasp and moan, keeping my eyes on his exhilarated face, his smile and dark eyes making me ache for him. I think we both needed this.

“How do you feel?” he asks, mouthing at my hip bone. More goosebumps erupt over my legs and sides.

“Like I’m buzzing,” I say slurring slightly as he slides a finger into me and pumps it slowly. 

“Is that good?” he asks, a little amused laugh following.

“So good.” I arch into him, trying to find friction for my clit against his palm. He knows my tricks, though, and has positioned his hand so that I can’t.

“You learned nothing, huh?” he shakes his head, but the wry little smile on his face gives him away. He’s always going to win the game, but I will never make it easy. Even when we plan out longer scenes together, I will never just _allow_ him to bend me to his will right out of the gate.

“How about I fuck you into the mattress and if you ask really, really nicely, I might let you come after?” He punctuates his question with another finger and begins stroking with purpose.

“Well,” I start, but he grabs the free end of the belt and pulls me up slowly, forcing me to rest more of my weight on my ass, which, rightly so, protests. I can still breathe, the belt still not tight enough to cut off any air or blood flow, but the reminder of it around my neck is perfect.

“That was rhetorical.” He pulls his fingers free and slides them into my mouth. I clean them off, keeping eye contact with him, and he groans, not immune to the feeling of my tongue swirling around his fingers. I grin around them despite the growing urgency to stop putting all of my weight on my backside. He grins back and slides his pinky and ring finger into my mouth beside the others and presses on the back of my tongue, smirking when I gag around them. He releases his hold on the belt, letting me lay back, and I sigh in relief as I watch him slip his fingers straight from my mouth and into his pants. A stray thought has me wondering when he undid his pants, but that thought is quickly lost as soon as he bites his lip, closes his eyes, and strokes himself with the wetness from my mouth.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

“Mmm,’ he answers. When he opens his eyes and focuses back on me, I sense that things are about to get both good and bad for me.

“Maybe I should just stroke myself until I come all over you and leave you an aching, desperate mess.” I don’t try to answer because he doesn’t want me to. He keeps stroking, not even pulling himself completely out of his pants for me to see.

“Or, I could fuck your mouth and come down your throat while you drip onto the bed.” I moan, unable to stop myself.

"Maybe roll you over and use your ass and completely ignore the one part of you that wants attention the most.” He won’t. I know he won’t, but, goddamn. The idea that he _could_. His mindfuckery skills are top notch, and he knows it.

“I could just continue beating you and see if you can come from that.” I blink at him, and wonder if I really could do that. I doubt it, and that must show on my face. “No? Maybe I should fill you up with that vibrator and tie you back up and leave you here. Make you come so many times you beg me to stop.”

“Jesus christ,” I groan, all the visuals flashing vividly through my mind. I press my legs together to quell the need to be touched, but he’s faster. His hands catch my thighs and press them open, leaning forward to keep them apart.

“The only person who gets to give you any relief is me.” He punctuates his point with a smack to each thigh. At this point, I’d probably give him anything he wanted if it meant I got to get off.

He pulls his cock out of his pants and rubs it against my clit, laughing as my body spasms and my hips buck against him. All I want him to do is fuck me into the mattress, but he just keeps lightly rubbing himself up and down my folds, doing nothing but smiling as he torments me.

“Just fuck me already,” I say, voice desperate. By this point, I have no pride left, and I’m fine with that.

“That sounds like a demand,” he says lightly, his tone infuriating.

“Please, god, just fuck me. I need you,” I try again. He keeps sliding himself through my wetness, not speeding up or pressing in. My skin is on fire, and I am so keyed up that I barely register the pain from my ass.

“That’s some hybrid of a demand and a statement,” he replies, holding in a laugh.

“Please, please, will you fuck me? I think I’ll die if you don’t.” He does laugh fully at that.

“Okay, _that’s_ dramatic.” He leans over and kisses me, bracing himself with his arms next to my head. “But, I don’t want you to die, so I guess I’d better…” he trails off, using one of his hands to guide himself into me, swallowing my moans with his mouth.

He sets a rhythm, deep and slow, and it’s not exactly what I wanted, but his pubic bone is grinding into me with every thrust, and it is _delicious_.

The abused skin of my ass is once again protesting being pressed into the bed, but now it only heightens the sensations I’m feeling. I feel every shift of my body on the blankets and catch his scent with every breath, all of my nerves lighting up from the inside out with every thrust.

His grunts grow deeper and more like growls as he speeds up, moaning loudly when I squeeze him.

“That’s right, baby. Clench around me, just like that, fuck,” he breathes out, the last curse turning into a moan as he moves ever faster.

“Oh, god.” I arch my back, rolling my hips up to meet him, to grind my clit against him and chase my own orgasm. We’re both breathing harshly, but, ever the mean one, he finds a way to take back control.

“You’re gonna come when I do, not before and not after.” A sound escapes my throat, a sob, maybe? It’s anguished whatever it is. I know he’ll take care of me, but I also know he’s an asshole. “Don’t be a brat about it," he scolds, snapping the end of the belt against my left breast. I gasp and glare at him, but I'm not sure he notices. He keeps pumping into me, his rhythm changing and growing more erratic. I keep grinding against him, hurtling closer to the edge, and clamp down on him as tightly as I can manage.

“FUCK,” he shouts, thrusting a handful of times before coming. He snaps my legs up, bending me nearly in half and keeps going, twitching inside me as he thrusts deeply, hitting my cervix and dragging against my g-spot with every movement. I come, my whole body tightening like a bow string, pussy pulsing with every beat of my heart. He fucks me through it and into the territory of overstimulation for both of us. I am making noises, but none of them are words I recognize. He pulls out, and I shiver, tears leaking from my eyes as I roll on my side to curl into him.

He holds me, and strokes my hair and says Nice Things while I shake and pant. Every one of my nerve endings seem to be alight, and the world is nothing but sensations.

The next thing I know, the blankets are on us, and I am cradled to his chest. My eyes are wet, body too tired to move, but I feel fantastic.

“You did so well; you were so good,” he’s saying into my hair as he holds me tightly. I lift my head, and he loosens his grip so he can look at me. “There you are,” he says, and smiles gently. Very few people ever get to see him smile like this, and it makes my heart swell.

“I love you. You were perfect. You knew exactly what I needed,” I tell him, my voice a little raw. He grins, accepting the words of affirmation that he always needs after bruising up my ass (or other things). “Thank you,” I finish, and rest my head back down, pressing a kiss to the skin closest to me, which happens to be the hollow of his throat.

Neither of us say anything for a long time. We nap eventually, and I end up rolling over and letting him wrap himself around me. A couple hours after that, he rubs ointment into the sore skin of my ass, and we decide to spend the rest of our afternoon in bed. He grabs snacks and water bottles from the drawer where he’d stashed them that morning, and we talk about boring things--work, bills, plans for the week. We cycle back around to the scene we’d just done and check in with each other. He plays with the heart dangling from my day collar as we watch Mike Nelson and his robots make fun of _Time Chasers_.

Later, he’ll go pick up our son from school, and I’ll shower.

His praise is the balm to my often-frayed nerves. My words are affirmation that the things he likes aren’t wrong.

We both give, and we both get off.

It’s a good balance.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y’all enjoyed. If you did, leave a comment or an ask on Tumblr [here](http://agentxinfinity.tumblr.com). 💜💜


End file.
